


The human sent by cyberlife

by firefox49



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Siblings, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Nines is an asshole but essentially an alien that Gavin has to teach human customs, Not sure how else to tag; I'll add as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28397064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefox49/pseuds/firefox49
Summary: Gavin Reed, having lost his job post-revolution due to some very negative public opinions about the police, is now working (begrudgingly) for Cyberlife as an integration specialist, training yet-to-be activated androids in how to life an autonomous life. His first trainee? A condescending, stick-up-his-ass RK900 unit who looks exactly like Connor.
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 18
Kudos: 64





	1. New beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Just an idea that's been bouncing around my head for a while!

"Good morning, little bro!"

"Fuck off, Eli." The last two things Gavin wanted to hear this morning (or any given morning, for that matter) were "good morning" and his brother's voice. So he was off to a great start already.

"Oh, cheer up," Elijah said, grinning and throwing an arm over Gavin's shoulder. "It's a good day! You're off the unemployment line."

"Hallelujah," Gavin replied, quickening his pace. Thinking about his old job was doing nothing but worsening his mood.

"It's not up to me," Fowler had promised him. "I hate to have to do this, but there's pressure on the commissioner's office and they're spitting all this bullshit about diversifying. I'm sorry." Gavin knew why he was really getting fired, though. It was all the cops with anti-android league histories who were getting picked off first. Which was why he dropped his badge and gun to the ground and left without a fuss. No getting around that. But AAL meetings were banned, now, and fuck if he was gonna be seen in the precinct on the other side of the holding cell.

"You," Elijah continued, interrupting his thoughts, "are going to be starting in here." He led him to a hall full of glass doors. Inside them were small rooms, no bigger than Gavin's bedroom, completely sterile and white. They looked like they had a sink and a bed, and each room had an android in it. They were all standing motionless in the middle, like they were asleep on their feet.

Gavin wrinkled his nose. "What the hell is in here?"

"These are the readjustment rooms. You, my friend, are the newest member of our readjustment team. You're going to be activating androids for the first time and teaching them how to integrate into society."

"I'm going to... fuck, how? I'm not trained for anything like this."

Elijah procured a white booklet from his pocket. "This is your manual. Follow it. Easy peasy, right?" He beamed. Gavin flipped through the pages.

"Etiquette. Customs. Colloquialism. Employment. Desires? Likes and dislikes? Eli, can't they google this shit themselves?"

"You can't teach a computer sarcasm through code, Gav. Trust me."

Gavin rolled his eyes. "Great. So I'm a babysitter. Thanks a bunch."

"Let me be clear, Gavin." The smile was gone from his face. A sneer tugged at the corner of his mouth and he leaned in close. "I'm doing this for you, strictly as a favor. You're welcome, by the way. You have no education in this field. You have no experience in this field. So you're going to follow the damn booklet, do the damn job, and thank me for it."

"Fine," Gavin said, shooting daggers at him. He snatched the booklet from his hands, already turning down the hall.

"Room thirty-seven, sunshine," Elijah called after him, like nothing had happened. "Have a spectacular day!"

Gavin cursed himself and his rotten luck all the way down to room thirty-seven. He glanced inside.

Fuck.

What a sick joke, he thought to himself. Standing in room thirty-seven, LED dark, eyes closed, standing stiff as a board as always, was Connor. Like, Connor exactly. Maybe a little taller. RK900, it said on his lapel.

"Just my _fucking_ luck." Gavin said under his breath, before opening the door.

The android was stock still, unnervingly so. Gavin paced around him once before mustering the courage to press his finger to the LED. The circle spun red, yellow, blue, the RK unit opened its eyes, and when it did Gavin could see that his eyes, unlike Connor's, were a startling light blue. At least he had that small difference. Thinking about Connor's stupid face and goody-two-shoes schtick made him want to punch something.

"This is RK900 unit, serial number RK787-2139-9999," it said, and it stopped moving as quickly as it started. Shit, Gavin thought, probably should have read that handbook more closely. Luckily, the first instructions were on page two, and the android seemed like a patient listener.

"Alright, Mr. Nines," he grumbled to himself. "Uhh, input operation code double-slash RA9."

"Affirmative." The unit closed its (his?) eyelids, and Gavin could see his eyeballs moving behind them, like someone in deep sleep. Then his (its??) brows furrowed, he flinched, and he opened his eyes again. They were wide and blinking, like seeing things for the first time.

"Uh. Hi." Gavin said.

"Hello."

There was an awkward pause as the android looked at him expectantly.

"Well," Gavin cleared his throat, "okay, here's what. My name is Gavin, you, as of one month ago, are recognized nationally as a living being with rights, and I'm going to teach you how to be that because you weren't programmed to."

"There are at least two grammatical errors in that sentence."

"I- what?"

"I was calibrating my audial processing and speech systems. I thought I would inform you."

"I. Okay." Gavin sighed. "How about we start with the etiquette chapter, then."

"Why do you have a book?"

"Huh?"

"I said, why do you have a book? Are you hard of hearing, Gavin?"

"No. No, I'm not hard of hearing." Gavin could already feel his blood start to boil. "I have this book because these are the instructions for what to teach you. Any more enlightening questions?" He asked through gritted teeth.

"Yes." the android moved a bit, stretching out his limbs. There were slight clicks from his stiff joints. "Why didn't they send a professional to do this?"

"What makes you think I'm not a professional?" he bluffed.

"A professional wouldn't need a book."

"Because," Gavin said, his grip on the book a little too strong, "There are no professionals. Nobody knows how to fucking do this. You geniuses have created an entirely new problem for us, as if we didn't have enough already. That's _why._ "

The android seemed to consider that. "Hmm. I see."

They stood and stared at each other for a tense moment.

"Well?" the android said, blue eyes blank and innocent. "Aren't you going to teach me?"

Slowly, very slowly, Gavin opened the booklet, not breaking eye contact. With as much hatred as he could muster, he read five consecutive pages about the importance of interpreting body language accurately, and how to initiate and carry a polite conversation. It was the most reading he'd done since his last case, he thought amusedly to himself. He paused at a break in the chapter, to make sure the android was following. His eyes were glazed over, and his light was spinning yellow.

"You with us, Major Tom?"

His eyes came back into focus. "My designation is not Major Tom."

"I- no, I know, it's a reference to a song." The kinder part of Gavin tried to calm down. "I'm asking if you're listening."

"Ah. I see. Yes, I am listening. Could you possibly read faster?"

"Okay!" Gavin snapped the book shut. "We're taking a break!"

"This seems like quite a short period to break after. Is this a teaching method I have not heard of? Keep in mind that the comprehension limits of human brains do not compare to--"

Gavin was already out the door.

"Elijah." he could already feel the heat in his face when he got to the break room. "Are you fucking kidding me."

"What do you mean, lil bro?" Elijah replied with a grin. 

"Don't lil bro me. You know exactly what I mean. Why the fuck would you do that."

"Well, if you're referring to the fact that I gave you a military-grade android to rehabilitate," Elijah said, lazily extracting himself from the sofa, "two reasons. One, if you fuck up, it's advanced enough to learn things on its own, anyway. Personally, I'd send that hunk out on his own, but rules are rules. Two," he smiled, "military droids are known for their sunny dispositions, so I thought you'd make a good pair."

Gavin opened his mouth to argue, but shut it again, remembering the warning from earlier.

"Cowboy up, hotshot," Elijah added helpfully. "It'll only be three months."

"Three months."

"Yes, three months. Are you having hearing problems?" He grinned.

"Fuck you, Eli," Gavin grumbled as he turned and left. Fuck, this was going to be miserable.


	2. Old beginnings

Gavin sighed as he pulled open the glass door of room thirty-seven the next morning.

"Good morning," said the android. "It is nice to meet you." He held his hand out stiffly, which Gavin would have found funny were he not concerned for the thing's memory.

He narrowed his eyes. "We've already met. Are you okay? Do you remember the last day? Should I get a technician?"

"No, no," the android put his hand back down. "I am practicing what you said yesterday. Allow me to try again." He re-extended the hand. "Good morning. It is nice to meet you."

Trying not to grin at how awkward he looked, Gavin shook his hand. "Good morning."

"What is your name?"

"Gavin." He pried his hand out of the android's grip. "Ah, what's yours?"

"Nines." there was a proud note in his voice.

"Really?" Gavin dropped the pretense. "Millions of names in the world, and you don't even go for one of them? Why?"

The android -- Nines -- cocked his head. It reminded Gavin of Connor, souring his mood. "You gave me that name yesterday. Do you not recall?"

"I never named you," Gavin replied defensively, worried he was going to get written up for this.

"When I woke up, you said 'Mr. Nines,'" he insisted. "Most likely because my serial code ends with five nines. It is simple and practical. I decided I liked it."

"You liked it, huh?" Gavin flipped through the booklet. "Liking things isn't until, like, page one fifty. Look at you."

It was a joke, but Nines almost seemed to puff out his chest a bit. It was endearing. "So how did I do?"

"On what?"

"My introduction."

"Uh, okay, it could use a little work."

From there, Gavin explained how to perform a handshake while looking like an actual human being. It was much more natural than reading from a handbook.

"So, try again."

"Affirmative."

"Wait, stop. Nobody says 'affirmative.' Just say, like, 'okay.'"

"... Okay. Good morning," he said, extending his hand exactly as badly as he had the first time. "It is nice to meet you."

"So, not quite, right? Bend your elbow, relax your fingers."

"Affirmative."

"Okay."

"Okay. Good morning."

"Nope, still not relaxed enough."

"It doesn't make any sense," Nines said after the fourth attempt. "Why would one relax more than is necessary? A handshake is a formal greeting, it should be done accurately, with precision."

"A lot of this stuff isn't based on making sense, though. It's based on what's easiest."

"This is not the easiest for me!"

"I know, I know." And in that moment, Gavin remembered a younger version of himself, the one that lost a case because he hadn't waited for a warrant to get key evidence. It had all gotten thrown out, and the perp had walked. It's not fair, he'd told Hank, who cares about the rules? It's just the way things are, was the reply he'd gotten, and you're going to have to learn to work with it.

"It's about learning to work with the way things are," he told Nines.

"How."

"Practice."

Nines narrowed his eyes. "I am a supercomputer. I can process more information in a nanosecond than you can in a day. I do not _need_ to _practice_." The LED was nearly red and Nines was visibly as bothered as Gavin had ever seen him.

"Knowing things doesn't always correlate with learning them," Gavin said. "Try this." he held his arm out limply. "Just use your shoulder and your forearm." With what looked like some reluctance, Nines complied. "Okay, do it again." And he did. over, and over again until he could do it the same every time. Then he engaged the wrist. Then the fingers, spreading them far at first and relaxing them. Eventually, Nines could offer a decent, non-lethal handshake.

"Do you have to do this every time you learn something?" he asked.

"Nah, just every time you learn something that doesn't come naturally. Which might be a lot of things. People call it muscle memory, though I guess it'd work different for you."

"Yes, I suppose it would," Nines said distractedly, still extending and dropping his arm, probably memorizing the position.

"Want to try again?"

"Yes. Good morning." A handshake. "It is nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too. What a nice handshake you have."

"Yes, it is. I practiced it two hundred and eighty-seven times."

"Aaand we're pumping the brakes. When someone compliments you, you say thank you and, just to be safe right now, nothing else."

"Oh. I was simply providing additional information." Nines' LED was spinning yellow. It was odd, speaking to an adult-looking being who was taller than him and having to teach him things you'd teach to a toddler.

"Yeah, but when someone meets you for the first time, chances are, they don't really care."

"That seems disingenuous."

"Yeah, I dunno. It just is. So say thank you."

"Thank you."

"Great. It might help to smile."

"I... may have some limitations in this area. I was not designed for integration with humans, so I do not have as complex of facial muscles as, say, a childcare unit or a Traci."

"Try anyway."

What Nines did with his face then would haunt Gavin. It could not be categorized as any facial expression known to man. The corners of his mouth didn't move enough, the center of it moved too much, and the result was an unsettling mess of teeth and gums.

"Yeah, uh, don't... don't try that again."

"Affirmative."

* * *

Gavin had worked days much worse than a nine to five at the precinct, but he was uniquely tired after day two. He let himself flop onto the couch and told the TV to turn on.

"Mrrow," said his cat.

"Mrrow," he said back. It was not time to feed her, nor would it be for another forty-five minutes.

"Knock, knock," said the door.

Gavin grumbled, turning down the volume. He answered it.

"Hey Gav!" It was Tina, his only remaining friend from work. The only other person he'd every really talked to at the precinct was Hank, and, well, he'd been a dick to his partner, so Gavin supposed he couldn't blame him for not coming for social calls.

"Hey, T," he said, giving a tired smile.

"You start that new Cyberlife gig yet?" She asked, coming inside without asking. They both knew it was fine, anyway. She had bags in her arms.

"Yeah, yesterday," he replied, returning to his original position on the sofa. "It's weird. I'm prepping androids for integration."

"Woah, that is trippy. Are you, like, qualified?" She began setting her bags on the counter.

"I guess nobody is. It's a pretty unique position we're in. They do have a couple androids on the team, though. I guess they know more than I would."

Tina nodded. "So who's your charge?"

"You won't believe it. An RK900 droid. Looks exactly like Connor."

"Woooah, no way! That must have been on purpose." Gavin made a face she couldn't see. "You know, because you were a cop and all."

"Yeah, thanks for the reminder!" He didn't really mean it in a biting way, but it came out biting, and then he supposed he kind of did mean it like that.

"Oof, yeah, sorry," she gave him an awkward smile and he rolled his eyes in forgiveness.

"So, you gonna tell me what's in those bags, or am I gonna have to call the bomb squad?"

"Oh, no, yeah, I just bought you some groceries. Figured you could only survive on..." she gingerly opened the fridge door. "Pop tarts and takeout for so long."

"Oh." Gavin was... genuinely touched. It was nice, to have someone thinking about him even after he was gone. He swallowed a lump in his throat. "Thanks."

"Yeah, no problem!" She smiled at him and unpacked the last of the produce. "Well, I can't stay long, got a date in a bit, but I'll see you around, mkay?"

"Okay, T. Tell Christie I said hi."

"Will do! Bye, Gav." And she was gone.

Her absence made the apartment seem quieter. Gavin felt a certain weight fall over him. He sighed and, a few hours later, fell asleep with the TV still on.


	3. Transition

A month and a half later, Gavin and Nines were nearly through the booklet. Gavin didn't find out until Elijah caught up to him in the hall before a shift that they were the last pair left to be done.

"Really? How are they getting through it so fast? I had to take an hour to make him understand the point of small talk."

"Well, that's the other thing about him being such a highly specialized model. Smart as all hell, but just as stubborn."

"So you stuck him with your, can't stress this enough, most unqualified employee."

"Ah, but you fail to consider," Elijah took a sip from his latte, "you're also our most ornery."

"Great. Thanks."

"Like I said, match made in heaven. Anyways, you'd better get going. If you hustle, you might be able to get done today."

"Oh." Gavin felt his stomach drop a little. "And then, and then he goes out?" He was surprised to find himself disappointed, but he really did enjoy talking to Nines. There was something so genuine, so trustworthy about him. Maybe the naiveté.

"Oh, hell no. Then you go on to round two: field training."

"Like taking him outside?" Has Nines ever even been outside? He wondered to himself. The concept was hard to wrap his head around.

"That's right. You'll start with brief excursions, an hour or two, and then, we've got some subsidized housing, we'll move them into their apartments. You'll stay there with him for a bit, and then he'll officially graduate to 'functioning member of society.'"

"Housing-- I'm going to live with him??"

"Oh, relax. It'll only be for, like, a week."

"A week."

"You're four minutes late already. If I catch you slacking off, I'll have to write you up." Elijah wagged his finger playfully. Gavin couldn't even find a _fuck you_ in him. He just stood and left.

"Morning," he said, when he walked into room thirty-seven half-distracted by his phone. He was met with silence. "Nines?" There was an android-shaped lump huddled under the blanket on the bed. "Hey, are you okay?" He reached a tentative hand out to what was probably a shoulder.

"BOO!"

"Ack!" Gavin jumped back.

Nines pulled the blanket off of his head, beaming, which was something he had gotten quite good at recently. It wasn't a bad look on him, either. He let out a staticky, mechanical laugh, and to be honest, it was the most excited Gavin had ever seen him.

"What the hell?"

"It is something I found on the internet last night. It is called a prank. A prank is a practical joke or mischievous--"

"Yeah, yeah, I know what a prank is." Gavin laughed as the panic subsided, smoothing his hair back with his hand to regain composure.

"People perform pranks on their friends, do they not?"

"No, yeah, they do." Gavin sighed. "You'll find better friends than me once you're out there, don't worry."

Nines' LED cycled yellow. "Oh. If you say so."

"I do say so." Gavin opened the book.

"There are only twenty-three pages left in the booklet," Nines said, LED pulsing brighter. "Statistically speaking, about six to seven of them are copyright information, indexes, and credits. What happens when we are done?"

Gavin explained what he had learned not ten minutes earlier. Yellow, yellow, blue.

"This is acceptable." A surprise roommate, Gavin supposed, would be a more amenable prospect to someone who lived in an isolation cube than to him.

"Well, let's get cracking then," he said.

They finished that day, with two hours to spare.

"Do you think I can take you outside now?"

"That seems to be the next step."

"Lemme check first."

 **Gavypoo -** Yo we're done, can I take him outside now

 **Gavypoo -** why tf is this my name in ur phone assbag

 **Eli -** ya ur good

 **Eli -** ;)

_Gavypoo changed Eli to Assbag_

**Assbag -** you play dirty

"He says it's cool." Gavin put his phone away. "Anywhere in particular you want to go?"

"I want to feed ducks in the park."

"That was fast. There, ah, might not be ducks out right now, though."

Nines seemed disappointed.

"There's always pigeons, though," Gavin offered.

"Yes. Pigeons are acceptable." Nines straightened.

"It's a plan, then," Gavin said, opening the door for Nines.

As they made their way toward the building's entrance, Gavin started to get nervous. Was he really the right person to do this? This was a pretty monumental occasion in someone else's life. Wasn't there anyone else better suited? What if--

"Gavin."

"Yeah, Nines?"

"Are you nervous?"

"Nah," he lied. "You?"

"Of course not," he said, putting a hand on the door handle. "I am with you."

* * *

Nines calculated the temperature to be thirty degrees Fahrenheit, fairly average for a Detroit February. It would not precipitate that day, which he was grateful for. Water in his joints at below-freezing temperatures would be... inconvenient, to say the least.

The wind was strong, strong enough to whip Gavin's scarf unceremoniously into his face. Gavin muttered an apology as he tucked it back into his coat, and Nines smiled. He liked smiling. There was a long, barren stretch of sidewalk between them and the security checkpoint outside the Cyberlife building, and he counted their steps. Perhaps the information would prove useful one day. Most likely not. Gavin's steps were shorter than his, but Nines had always noticed he walked with an undeniable confidence, which conflicted in his defensiveness whenever he asked Gavin a question about himself. He could tell when Gavin lied to him. He was built, after all, for information recollection and interrogation. He could not, however, bring himself to push. The closed-off body language, raised heart rate, and short replies gave off an almost fearful impression. He could not place why, exactly, but he knew he did not want to be the source of Gavin's discomfort.

"Ready?" Gavin asked, opening his car door.

"Ready," Nines confirmed as he sat in the seat. "I would like to drive a car one day."

"Not one for those automated things?"

"I would prefer to do it myself."

"You and me both, partner," Gavin replied as he turned the speakers on.

"This song is from the early 2000's," Nines remarked.

"It is," Gavin said, somewhat defensively. "They made good music in the 2000's." There was that recoil again; every time Nines prodded Gavin took two steps back.

"The dirt in this car dates back over six months ago." He knew he shouldn't push. He knew it. But the investigator in his hard drive insisted on finding a limit; everything had a limit. "Why have you not cleaned it?"

"I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that." Gavin's voice was casual, but Nines detected slight anomalies that would imply he had in fact gotten to him. He noted personal cleanliness under his list of things that were best left alone.

"Are all humans touchy regarding questions about their personal hygiene? Or just you?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I mean, is this a topic to be avoided with all people or is the issue specific to you?"

"There's no need to be an asshole about the fact that I haven't cleaned my car, Jesus. I didn't know this was happening today." 

"I was not talking about your car, Gavin. I simply asked a question."

"You clearly are--what's gotten into you? I'm- I'm doing something nice right now!"

"You are supposed to be teaching me, are you not? I simply want an answer to my question."

"No, no you don't nag people about whether they've cleaned or not. We'd all love to be spotless and perfect like you, but we're not, okay? Happy?" Gavin's heart rate and internal body temperature had risen significantly, and the hand on the steering wheel was Gavin's right, his arm an effective barrier between them. The knuckles were white. No, Nines decided, this did not make him happy. It only raised more questions.

"So why--"

"Just shut up," Gavin sighed, shaking his head. His eyes were locked onto the road, more intensely than research indicated was necessary. Conclusion: Gavin was not looking at him on purpose. According to their lessons on body language, this was not a good sign. He decided to look out the window instead.

Nines had seen images of Detroit before, of course, but being in the real inner city, watching the buildings zip by in three dimensions, was something else entirely. He was currently looking at more people than he'd ever seen together in his life, and it pained him not to have the time to analyze them all. He was consumed by the hunger to _know,_ to _figure out._ The world on the other side of the passenger window was a puzzle he was already intent on solving.

"Alright," Gavin said after pulling the car into the parking lot of a convenience store. "You can come in if you want, but do _not_ say _anything_. Got it?"

"Got it," Nines agreed. To be honest, there was nothing he wanted to say once they got inside. He was too busy analyzing the products, looking up their nutritional information and raising an eyebrow at the abysmal information he got. Which prompted the question, why would humans put this inside of them when it's public knowledge they shouldn't? Which prompted more questions, and before he knew it, Gavin was tugging at his arm, bag of sunflower seeds in hand.

"Hey, space cadet. Ready to go?"

Nines shook his head back into focus. "Yes, I am ready."

There was an amenable quantity of pigeons in the park, and he and Gavin approached where the cluster was the largest. They sat together on a bench, and Gavin handed him the bag of seeds. "All yours, buddy."

Experimentally, Nines pinched a few between his fingers and tossed them in front of him. The pigeons all dove for it at once, making him jump. He heard Gavin laugh softly beside him, too softly for another human to have been able to hear. "They don't bite. Promise."

Shooting him an annoyed glance, Nines tossed out a couple more, to a similar result. What would it be like, he thought as he continued dishing out the seeds, to live like a pigeon? Not a care in the world except for where your next meal was coming from. No expectations, no existential worries. He was halfway through the bag when he realized he hadn't included Gavin.

"Would you like to give them some?"

"Oh, God, no, the ones outside my apartment already pester me enough," Gavin replied, hands in the air.

"I see. Where do you live?"

"Not far. Close enough to be inundated by pigeons every hour of the fucking day."

That made Nines laugh. He didn't know why, there was no joke. But he laughed anyway, because smiling made him feel more human. Gavin laughed a little, too, so he figured he couldn't be too wrong, anyway. He felt Gavin's eyes on the back of his neck, though he did not turn around to return his gaze. It made sense, he supposed. Gavin was, after all, in charge of keeping him out of trouble.

* * *

Gavin had offered to stay after his working hours, but Nines had insisted they leave early enough for Gavin to clock out on time. They made the trek down the long swath of concrete and asphalt in silence, and stayed that way all the way back to room thirty-seven. Not for the first time, Nines was sad to see Gavin go.

"Thank you. For a good first day," he said, when Gavin turned to leave.

"Oh. Uh, yeah, of course." Gavin looked caught off guard, but just before he turned away again, Nines was sure he glimpsed a hint of a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't... actually know if pigeons are big in Detroit. Sorry if I'm wrong.


	4. Outside

Not that he'd ever taught a toddler to walk, but Gavin was convinced that if he had, going places with Nines would be exactly the same. The guy was just so damn blunt-- he was constantly on guard for Nines to say something where he'd have to interject. "He didn't mean it like that," Gavin would assure them. "He doesn't get out much."

Nevertheless, Nines was getting better at it, and really seemed to enjoy the excursions, so Gavin couldn't bring himself to mind.

"World's Best Cup of Coffee?" he asked. "That's unlikely."

"Everybody says that," Gavin waved a hand dismissively. "Businesses lie to attract customers."

"Hmm," Nines replied.

"Can you even drink coffee?"

"Technically speaking, yes. I have a compartment attached to my throat to store substances internally. It was supposed to be for sensitive documents and the like, but I don't see why it wouldn't hold coffee. I would not taste it, however, and it would have no effect on my adrenal systems."

"Well, coffee's no good if you don't get the caffeine, anyway. I keep forgetting you're like a legit spy."

"I have no intention on becoming a spy."

"Really? I'm sure anyone would pay you a pretty penny."

"Perhaps, but I wish to have more control over my own life. I have submitted an application with the local police department."

Well, wasn't that just a kick in the teeth. Gavin felt his skin prickle and his step falter, but fought hard to keep his breathing even. Maybe if he unzipped his jacket a little Nines wouldn't be able to notice a rise in body temperature.

"Oh. Cool."

"Yes, I think it is. That was a very short answer to a rather significant announcement. Is something bothering you?"

Damnit. "No, no. Don't worry about me. That's exciting, really." Gavin forced a fake smile but couldn't shake the empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. Part of him had wondered, hoped, even, that maybe they could keep in touch after Nines went out on his own. Now the thought just made him want to puke. "Let's do something else," he interjected before Nines could get another word in. "We've got a late curfew today. What else interests you?"

Nines squinted slightly. He did that, now, when he was deep in thought. Gavin wondered where he'd gotten it from. "Alcohol."

Gavin laughed. "Alright! Now it's a party."

"Were you wanting to invite your friends?"

Gavin's smile faded slightly when he thought about his friends, scratch that, friend. You know, the one from the police department Nines was absolutely, one hundred percent going to get a job at. "Nah, let's stick to the two of us for tonight. Baby steps and all that."

"As you wish. I have found four bars within a mile of here with average reviews of four stars and higher. I am amenable to something different, though, if you have a preference."

"You pick."

Which is how they ended up at an android bar Gavin wouldn't have been caught dead at a year ago. Make that six months ago, actually. There were human patrons, but they only made up about a quarter of them, and most of them were there with an android. Just like him, Gavin thought, and reflexively winced internally.

Nines approached the bar and ordered what Gavin could make out to be a fruity-sounding drink. He still wasn't sure how android alcohol worked, but it wasn't really his problem.

"Whiskey," he said, nodding politely.

"Are you two here together?" the bartender was apparently an old Chloe model. She looked at them meaningfully.

"Yes," Nines replied with a smile before Gavin could say no. He weighed his options, in that instant. Say 'wait, no, not like that,' and make Nines feel awkward, or do nothing. He chose the latter.

"Very nice," the bartender said before turning away to make the drinks.

"So, future reference, buddy," Gavin said, lowering his voice, "she was asking if we were here on a date."

"Oh!" Nines looked startled. Like, more startled than he had looked at any of Gavin's other corrections. Weirdly startled. "I wish to clarify," he said when the Chloe returned. Or Rachel, rather, as was written on her name tag. "We are not here as a couple. Merely as friends."

"Oh. I see." She shot Gavin a weird glance. _Why me???_ He thought but didn't say. It wasn't worth the energy.

Nines was a giggly drunk. He would smile at anything Gavin said. Like anything. "My dad never really cared to understand me." Gavin was a couple too many whiskies deep. It was a good thing they'd taken a taxi.

"Haha," Nines said vaguely. Gavin couldn't help but snort.

"Fuckin. Lightweight." He put his head in his hands and checked his watch. "We'd better get a move on. Thank the nice lady."

"Wait," Rachel-Chloe said. She wrung her hands nervously. "I don't usually do this, but, I would like to give you my contact information. If, you know, you would like to contact me."

"Oh." Nines was doing the squinty thing again. "Yes. I would like this."

Rachel's LED blinked, and Nines' LED blinked in the same pattern. Gavin could connect the dots. Something in him twisted.

"Let's go." He grabbed Nines' arm, much more sober now.

"Wh- goodbye," he waved at the bartender, just like he'd been taught to do, as Gavin dragged him (with ample difficulty) towards the door.

* * *

Nines found himself back in his room. He couldn't find it in him to call it a home anymore. There were so many places he enjoyed other than the practical white one he'd spent most of his life in. Gavin had ridden back with him in the taxi, but dodged his questions about what to say to the bartender and declined to walk him inside. Ever the analyzer, he tried to trace back to what had gone wrong.

When he had mentioned applying to the police department. Perhaps Gavin had some gripe with them, or a criminal record he didn't want to talk about. Nines could hack into those databases quite easily.

It would be wrong of him to pry, though. Right?

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like it's worth mentioning how much I really do hate Gavin in the game lmao. Fanon Gavin is an entirely different entity to me than canon Gavin is, which in part is what I think makes this pairing so interesting.


End file.
